


Never Her

by hisorako, laceyorbelle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Golden Lace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisorako/pseuds/hisorako, https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceyorbelle/pseuds/laceyorbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after, Rumplestiltskin calls out for someone - and it's not Lacey, but she wishes it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Her

**Author's Note:**

> This was a wonderful collaboration between laceywantsadrink (from Tumblr) and stillthemonster/bahrumbug (from Tumblr), and we hope to be able to do it again soon! Any comments are welcome. :)

Lacey wanted to cry. 

It had been magnificent, and she didn't feel good enough. She wished she was Belle, whoever she was.

Rumple woke and there was a moment of confusion: he couldn’t figure out why there's someone in his bed. Someone with beautiful brown locks, someone like...Belle. So, waking, he called out for her again and he saw her face and almost touched it tenderly, but pulled back, realizing that it was Lacey.

Lacey was immediately happy to see him awake. But when she heard _her_ name, she leaned back into the pillow and rolled her eyes.

Belle. Always Belle.

She looked into his eyes, waiting, and when he pulls away, she bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. Of course Lacey wasn’t her. She would never be her. No matter how hard she wished.

She should be used to this by now, she thought, but it hurts almost just as much almost every time, and especially now.

He groaned aloud. It wasn’t a moan; it was a groan because he realized what he'd done. He'd gone and taken her right here in his home without Belle's consent. He was no better than that bastard who asked to sleep with Belle that one day so many years ago. He wondered if she'd ever forgive him or if she'd be so repulsed, both by him and his old, thin body that she'd never to speak to him again.

He didn’t stop to think that perhaps Lacey was a different person entirely.

Lacey blinked back tears at his groan, praying it wasn't a groan of regret. She'd only heard that two other times, but those had been with men she'd barely cared about. Mr. Gold was entirely different. She was interested in him more than she cared to admit.

He wanted to get up and leave her because a true gentleman wouldn't force her to leave. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to do that. He never redressed, he realized, and his body in daylight is every bit as scrawny as it is in the night, if not more. Surely she'd never want to see him again if she saw that. So he allowed himself to lie in bed, trying hard not to look at her, trying not to make out how close she was to him or the shape of her curves against the sheets.

Lacey gently stirred, knowing he's probably thinking of how to get away from her. She hated to think of it, but she knew she had to face the truth, regardless of how much she wants to stay with someone she truly cared about. She tried to remember every sensation of the chemistry between them, the energy she was feeling lying next to him, trying to etch it all into her mind. She knew she would be reliving the moment for a while. Finally, she eased her upper body up, rubbing her eyes to help wake herself up. She prayed he won't notice, desperately hoping he was sleep-talking, if she slipped out. She subtly glanced over at him, taking in his thin, strong frame, remembering how perfect it had been over hers.

Once again, she regretted not being his precious Belle. It seemed to be all he wanted in the whole world.

He was holding his eyes half-closed when he saw her get up to leave. He wanted to reach out to her to beg her to return - to return to last night - But he didn't. He couldn't do that anymore than he could force her to love him because what they made last night...was that love? He couldn't remember, and that frightened him more than anything, so he kept his eyes half-open and half-closed, as he kept his heart half-open and half-closed, and his mind the same.

Thinking he still must be sleeping after the sensational night they had, Lacey slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, realizing she was still quite undressed. She raised an eyebrow at her clothes that hung over the lamp shade.

Typical.

She glanced back at Mr. Gold, sure he was still sleeping, and stood up to redress. Once she was safely clothed, she stared at him a bit longer. He was so peaceful.

Probably dreaming of his precious Belle.

Maybe, at the very least, Lacey had provided him with some kind of closure. Belle didn't seem to be around anymore, and at the very least, Lacey was all right with helping him ease the pain.

But she didn't want that. She wanted love for herself. She crossed the room to give him one last look, before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

She hoped, if she wasn't dead, that Belle would return to this poor man.

He watched her through his blurred vision. Watched her dress. Watched her nimble fingers pull up, pull on, button up. Watched her gaze at him. He didn't know what kept his eyes open; he didn't know why they wouldn't close. But still he watched with lidded eyes as her face turned to one of regret and sorrow, as she found him and kissed him goodbye. He wanted to speak up, to say something, to make her love him.

But, as usual, Rumplestiltskin was a coward. And so he did nothing.

Lacey brushed the brown hair from his face, hoping, at the very least, that she left him happy. She wanted so badly to stay, but her doubt overcame her, and she couldn't face his rejection in the morning. She wasn't Belle, and she never would be.

As her hand swept over his face, he tried his best not to twitch. Let her do as she'd like and forget last night, or so his intuition told him. Although, it was probably her own doubt, she could've sworn she saw his eyes flutter, but she shook it off. He was sound asleep, and when he woke, she would be gone.

"Goodbye...Mr. Gold..." Lacey whispered, taking in his face, his gorgeous home, solidifying the night in her mind.

She knew she would never forget it. Nor would she probably ever get a night as good. He seemed to truly respect her, and that was something she prized more than anything. Even if he thought she was Belle.

Or wanted her to be.

He'd heard her bid him farewell, and the coward that he was forbade him to do a thing about it. And so, as he let the best thing that'd ever happened to him slip through his fingers, his mind ran through the what-ifs: all the things he would've done had he been a braver man.

Had he been a braver man, he would've grasped her wrist and had her on his bed right then and there.

Had he been a braver man, he wouldn't have cared about respectability. He wouldn't have cared that it was bright outside.

Had he been a braver man, he would've seen this woman's beauty. He would've cherished it, not ravished it.

All these things he thought, if only he were a braver man, as a cowardly man did the most cowardly of all deeds: nothing.

Standing there, thinking of what had happened, knowing she'd go over the moment over and over in her mind, Lacey made a brash decision. She wanted to go to the door, take one last look at him, then go home and not think twice, but she knew this was different.

"Mr. Gold," She stated calmly and firmly, sad to wake him, but intent on doing so. She had always received implied answers, and for once, she wanted something concrete. She had to be brave.

Stirring at the sound of her voice - Belle's voice but something harder, harder like the whiskey she drank at night -, he opened his eyes, feigning waking. "Lacey." His voice was somewhere between tender and serious, as if he couldn't decide. He couldn't decide what to make of her: a woman with all the worldly charms a man could desire or a woman with all the treasures he could ever care for. She was two in one, halves of a soul sharing a single body.

He was awake. He almost roused too easily, like he had been waiting for her. When he said her name, she wanted to both smile and look away. It was almost merely acknowledging, like a teacher addressing a student.

"Sorry to wake you, but...thank you, for allowing me to stay. You...are a good man." Lacey wasn't sure what made her say it, but she had heard so much about this man, and everything she had experienced had told her otherwise. It only supported her theory.

She still felt bad for waking him. It went against everything she usually did with men she slept with, but she had never been with a man like Mr. Gold. Men like this only shook their heads at her and hoped for the best before passing over her.

Then again, she was certain Mr. Gold would pass over her for Belle in an instant. Still, she wanted him to know she had her respect, and this was not easy to come by.

She pried herself from his hazy gaze, and turned toward the door.

His throat was dry, and when he spoke it came out raspy. "Not at all." He averted his gaze from her departing form as he cleared his throat and did something both cowardly and brave: he asked.

"Have I bored you, dearie?"

He tried to laugh it off, as if it was only another of his schemes, his ploys, but it wasn't at all. It was the truth, honest and brutal: the chink in his armour where an arrow had pierced, blue eyes gazing into his darkened soul.

Lacey furrowed her brow, surprised at his answer. She had certainly not been expecting that.

Her blue eyes scrutinized him. " _Bored_ me?" She took a step toward him, cradling her leather jacket. "Not at all. Last night..." Lacey shook her head. She rarely felt shy, but around him, everything seemed different. "...was fantastic," She simply admitted, deciding not to hide it.

"I just thought..." She shook her head. As comfortable as she felt with him, they were still strangers, and he obviously still loved Belle. And it seemed that would never change anytime soon. "...you might...be imagining something different when you awoke," Lacey blurted out, biting her lip instantly as she felt the words slip out. She had no intention to guilt trip him, but she couldn't help feel like she could never give him what he truly wanted.

Rumple didn't like it. He couldn't bear it. He despised the look on her face and himself for putting it there. He was a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man, dreaming of one woman when another was in his arms. Lacey wouldn't have known that. She wouldn't have known that his fantasies, his thoughts, his love was for her. Another her - the true her - but her nonetheless. He didn't want her to slip away again, to hide away within the thick walls she put up around herself.

"Tell me." His tone was desperate, one of a man pleading for something more important than his life. "Tell me what you heard."

Lacey cocked her head. She thought he might nod as she walked out the door, but he seemed to care. He continued to surprise her.

"Heard?" She questioned, furrowing her brow. She took a step closer to the bed. She knew it must still be warm from the previous few minutes. She fought the urge to climb back in.

"About you...I've heard you were cold and uncaring. Particularly with money," She added, thinking of Granny. She had advised her to stand her ground when it came to that, but Mr. Gold had always insisted on covering their drinks. Lacey never objected, but thought it was awfully kind.

"But I've found that to be entirely untrue," She stated, meeting his gaze. It was funny to have this conversation now, but it was ok. It was real. Lacey took a step closer. "You're gentle and warm and..." Lacey hesitated. "...you seem to really love Belle," She admitted, swallowing her own emotions. She knew, deep down, the whole night hadn't been about her.

It was about Belle.

"That I was. And still will be, if that's the man you want to see." Rumple swallowed hard. He'd do anything to please her. Losing Belle once, then again...now, he'd cling to whatever remained of her.

He frowned at the words that poured from her mouth. Of course he loved Belle. He still did, and always would. But he hadn't realized it'd make her...envious. That it'd hurt her to know that he was so very much in love with her other self, her true self.

He'd never considered them to be two separate entities, only ever as two sides of a coin. Both vastly different, but the same person altogether. But now, he realized an error in his perception. Lacey didn't know what he did. She believed that he was besotted with another woman entirely, someone who'd disappeared and to whom she'd never compare.

Perhaps it'd never be the same, this relationship with Lacey. But he did want her. He wanted her to stay. Not simply for his own selfishness, but because he didn't want her to go. Somehow, she'd liked him, even in his form and in hers. She'd trusted him not to hurt her, not to destroy her. And that meant something in this land of deceit and hatred.

"I do love her," he affirmed, his voice gentle but firm. "But she's gone, and might never return. It's a futile love that can never be returned. But I'm willing to try - to try and find that again. If you'll let me."

"No," Lacey instantly said, moving toward the bed, until she was so close, she lowered herself onto it. She had no intention of losing the man she had met so intimately the previous night. He was nothing like she had expected, and she was so happy about it.

Lacey reached out her hand toward him, leaning on it, scrutinizing him. She felt she had a gift in understanding men, but Mr. Gold puzzled her like no other.

Lacey shook her head. "I don't know her past, I don't know what's happened to her..." She racked her brain with the possibilities. Lost? Presumed dead? Kidnapped? Terminally ill? It bothered her to no end, but regardless, she wasn't her, and never would be.

She turned her attention back to Mr. Gold. "I'd like that...but I don't want to make you let go of someone you love."

She met his gaze. It was so sincere it stabbed her heart.

"Don't worry...I'm used to it," Lacey painfully admitted, forcing a smile, thinking of all the men who told her in the morning that they had to return to their girlfriends they had happened to forget about. As much as she was interested in Mr. Gold, she was no relationship ruiner.

She was just Lacey: the girl who wanted to have fun. It didn't matter what she wanted.

A flicker of a grin graced his lips as she came to him. Covering her hand with his own, he looked upward into bluer skies than the world had ever known. She was beautiful, cutting, fragile - a shard of stained glass in his hands. It cut his heart as he watched her deny knowledge of herself - her true self. But how could he answer her? How could he make her understand?

Running his tongue over his lips, he paused before slowly saying, every bit of pain evident in the dark and murky brown of his eyes, "S-she's dead." Mustering up more conviction and trying to ignore the slashes he drew across his heart, he repeated, "Belle is dead."

His hand trembled like the plucked string on a grand harp. Too consumed with grief to notice, he cleared his throat. "I've lost her - forever. I think she'd...she'd want me to move on." His gaze fell beyond her for a moment before he refocused on her. "I'd like that."

Lacey almost drew back in surprise when she felt the warmth of his hand over hers. Not only she had been distracted looking into his eyes, but gestures of affection like this were not common with the men she woke up next to.

But his bright, nearly amber eyes just overflowed with kindness. 

When she heard the startling truth about the mysterious Belle, her blue eyes widened, and her jaw fell slightly. She hadn't known what to expect. When Lacey had been found in the hospital, he seemed to be so sure that she had been her. Perhaps she had been lost. Regardless, he seemed sure that she was absolutely gone now.

Then why was it that Lacey could've sworn she saw the hope in Gold's eyes shatter before her just then? Like Belle had just, in that moment, died.

Lacey gently squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered lowly, her eyes only meeting his for a moment before scouring the room. The emotional connection she was beginning to feel scare her, and she felt more naked than she had last night.

Although she couldn't help but be pleased to be reassured that Belle was permanently gone, Lacey couldn't help but feel out of place. The love of his life had just died, and here she was in bed with him.

She dragged her hand away from him and began to ease herself up. "You should take the time you need to...move on. I understand," Lacey finally said, finding the courage to meet the sorrowful eyes of Mr. Gold.

It was dangerous position, to care about someone so much (which, alone, Lacey was astounded by) who was so very much in love with what was starting to feel like her long lost twin.


End file.
